


Last goodbye

by beyond_the_nights_world



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hunters Funeral, M/M, Sad, castiels dead, just my thoughts, season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 09:04:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11940828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_the_nights_world/pseuds/beyond_the_nights_world
Summary: Just my thoughts about what would happen after the final of season 12





	Last goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my lovely @swinging_fists for beta reading and comments

It was one of those perfect nights they were talking of in cheesy movies and books. 

The heat of the day was washed away by a soft breeze off the lake. 

The sun had set behind the mountain range, clearing the stage for a night sky that was illuminated by a thousand stars. 

Soon after the light of the sun disappeared, crickets started their concert in the grass that surrounded the small building.

 

This was one of those nights to never forget.

 

Dean didn't see the stars in the sky, his gaze was focussed on the flames that chased the nightly shadows with red glowing fingers. 

He didn't hear the crickets nor the soft rustle of the wind in the trees. The sound of cracking wood and blazing fire was grating on his ears instead.

 

There was no soft breeze from the lake, only the cold hand of death that had grabbed his heart and was crushing it more and more with every spark of fire that escaped into the air.

 

When they had lit the fire and the first tendrils of gold and red had wound their way around the wrapped body of the angel, Dean died a second time this day. 

A hunter’s funeral was equal to finitude. 

There had been hope until the moment Sam burned the matches, and even after the first flames grew out of the wood, there was a glimpse of hope left.

 

But nothing happened. No miracle, no mysterious resurrection.

 

Cas was gone.

 

Sam had found some words to say, some kind of sermon to dignify the life of the angel. 

Dean heard his brother's voice, but didn't understand the words. He didn't care what Sam was saying because there weren't words which would do justice. 

There was nothing which would do justice.

 

They both stayed, side by side, watching the flames consume the body of the angel. When the fire had left only a stack of ash, Sam went in.

 

Dean knew, he should go to, but he couldn't.

 

His body refused to move.

 

So he stayed in his place until the first rays of the morning sun crept up over the horizon and lit up the world again.

 

“ See you one day,” he whispered. 

When he eventually turned around, his hand dug in the pockets of his jacket, his fingers curled around the mixtape he had found in Cas' trench coat.

 


End file.
